Obligations
by woundedbutterfly
Summary: Obligation: 1. The act of binding oneself by a moral, legal or social tie to someone 2. A course of action imposed by society, law, or conscience by which someone is bound or restricted. Casey is falling for Olivia, but life and love are never simple...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Law and Order or any of the characters therein. I do however own Married With Children. Think I don't? Prove it…._

**Synopsis**

_Obligation: 1. The act of binding oneself by a moral, legal or social tie to someone 2. A course of action imposed by society, law, or conscience by which someone is bound or restricted._ Olivia was a married woman, happy, or so she thought. Then Casey Novak walked into her life and everything got a lot more complicated…

_**A/N: Ok, so I'm starting another story. Ill advised? Perhaps. This is a bit of a departure for me, but I'm hoping it will go okay. **__**Just a brief bit of back story, this starts when Casey first joins SVU. Olivia and Elliot have been married for a little over a year, and had only been partners briefly before getting involved. Both still work in the Special Victims Unit, but Elliot is partnered with Munch and Olivia with Fin.**_

_**Warnings:** This will likely contain many mature themes, and any specific things I shall add later. For now the rating will stay as is and I'll bump it up when needed. Plus if you are a rabid E/O fan…odds are, you will not enjoy…_

_**Olivia**_

It started with a look, an unexpected vulnerable gaze.

I had steamed into the office of our new Assistant District Attorney, Casey Novak, with every intention of tearing her a proverbial new one. The new kid had fucked up, and I was already pissed that she was the never-ever-gonna-measure-up replacement to our previous, much loved ADA Alex Cabot. She'd already raised my hackles with her little wannabe Columbo act on her first crime scene, talking down to me and the crime scene guys like it was our first day on the job. She came off as a stuck up little missus who'd been born with a silver spoon in her mouth and her head firmly up her ass. I'd thought she needed taking down a rung or two at that juncture.

And then she'd come down to hard on an innocent child who couldn't pick a perp out of the line up and had therefore more than earned herself the castigation marathon I had worked out in my head on the way over to the office, muttering to myself, gripping the steering wheel hard enough I was surprised it didn't come off in my hands.

I threw her office door open, sucking in a breath, ready to release my tirade.

Then she'd looked up at me from the sofa, her neat little brows drawn up sadly, green eyes heavy with that dejected stare, looking every bit the victim herself, and at once, it filled up my heart.

That's where it started, that instant when our eyes met and I knew she needed comfort, not tearing down. And against my better judgement, I gave her just that, squeezing her shoulder and leaving her with a reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

How wrong I was.

_**Casey**_

For me, it started the first time she found me at the bar, glass tumbler holding a few rocks of ice melting into a double of something strong enough to make me nearly choke when it hit the back of my throat.

Nothing was going right, nothing.

I hadn't wanted the goddamn assignment, Arthur Branch insisted I was perfect for the job, I believed the precise opposite. There were times in my first weeks in the Special Victims Unit when I thought he wanted me gone, and this was a convenient way of making me walk instead of going to the trouble of firing me.

Then I remembered Branch loved firing people, said it was one of the few joys his job afforded him, and I knew he'd just judged me wrong. Thought I was better than I am, stronger. People do that. I don't help myself by acting the tough girl. Pretending it doesn't bother me. Fake it till you make it, as they say.

Well faking it wasn't working anymore, so forgetting was the next best thing. Talking definitely hadn't helped. Elliot had thrown his two cents in before I'd left the office, but I tire of their stories, their little vignettes of wisdom.

Every time the Detectives want me to take their side with a case, they approach me, with that knowing, 'aren't you a cute little lawyer?' gaze and impart to me an example of a similar situation from their past which of course gives them untenable insight into the situation which I couldn't possibly hope to possess, having only spent twenty seven years here on Gods green earth. Maybe they're wrong, maybe I've lived through and seen a lot more than they think.

Or maybe I'm pissed because they're right, and sometimes I do get lost in all this. Who wouldn't? There are things people do to each other that I just can't get my head around, and then there are the cases I understand all too well, and my impartiality falls away. But nothing seems to fall into the neat space in-between; uncomplicated realms of just guilty or not, by law, not muddied by infinitely debatable moral shades of grey.

Sometimes I solicit their help myself. Swallow my pride and approach Elliot, or Mary, or sometimes Elizabeth. But they won't make my decisions for me, even when that's all I want. A reprieve from my responsibilities. It gets too much sometimes, not that I'd admit that to any of them, so instead I wind up here, giving in to the adult equivalent of clamping your hands over your ears and chanting 'la la la, I can't hear you' and getting drunk enough that I can't even remember what was hurting me. The edges of the room were just about taking on a nice blur when she slid onto the barstool next to me…

*****

Casey didn't attempt to contain the sigh that rose from her chest as the leather jacketed Detective rested her arms on the bar before them, ordering a soda and giving a pitying look to the attorney as she regarded the drink before her.

"It's a little early, don't you think?" Olivia said finally, when the silence started to bear down.

Casey shrugged, the effect amplified by the padded shoulders of her suit jacket, she had gone straight from the courtroom to the bar, "maybe not early enough. Maybe a couple of shots before the closing arguments this morning would have helped. Hell, it couldn't have gone any worse…"

"Hey, don't blame yourself," Olivia said gently.

"Then who should I blame? That bastard for being too good at not getting caught? The law? The jury? Or maybe you and Elliot for not gathering enough evidence to support my case?" Casey swallowed hard at the last suggestion, guiltily averting her gaze to her feet. Olivia didn't need that, and Elliot didn't deserve it either. Luckily, the Detective shouldered the barb.

"I know you're hurting about this, we all are," Olivia said, her voice taking on a soothing timbre, "but guess what? We win as a team, and we lose as a team."

Casey shot the brunette a sideways glance, considering her words. Casey was cautious by nature, she liked to play her cards close to her chest, it was safer that way, less chance of getting burned. But there was a naked sort of sincerity in Olivia's espresso dark eyes, and perhaps it was that, or perhaps it was just the alcohol already dulling her restraint, but she found herself saying,

"Sometimes I don't really feel a part of that team."

Shit.

_Way to go Novak, that didn't sound _at all_ needy or like a five-year-old who has just been left out of the neighbourhood game of hide-and-seek, _she chided herself the hell had she gone to a bar anyway? Drinking at home was a perfectly acceptable and healthy thing to do. She'd remind herself of that next time: When consuming copious volumes of inhibition draining liquids, avoid interaction with other humans. Especially other humans who happened to inhabit the same work sphere.

Casey tensed her shoulders, ready for the ridicule, rebuke or awkward silence which would inevitably follow.

Next to her, she heard the other woman hop off the barstool, her boots creating a heavy thud. She was actually leaving. That was not a response Casey had imagined, but it just about fucking figured.

No matter.

She hadn't sought company, so Olivia walking out wasn't about to rain on her whisky fuelled parade. Hell no. The floats had only just started down the street and the tickertape hadn't even been released. She rose the glass to her lips, about to take another sip of the veritable paint stripper masquerading as a drinkable beverage when she head a voice behind her say.

"Come on."

Curious, Casey turned around to see Olivia standing behind her, car keys in one hand, the other gesturing toward the exit.


	2. Jenga

**A/N I feel so productive I managed to update two fics! Hurray for me! Anyhow, this story will get serious soon, promise. I just don't want to dive right in there with the angst and drama. So instead, there is board games. Anyhow, without further adieu…oh yes, and review… it rhymes and so you must do it. Probably.**

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**Chapter 2**

**Jenga**

"Of course, you're a lawyer!" Olivia exclaimed, snapping her fingers as though an elusive fact had occurred to her spontaneously. Also sat cross-legged on the carpet in Olivia's living room, on the other side of the foot high coffee table, the redhead lowered the thin, staple bound rule book she had previously been engrossed in. She peered around the tall, but precariously tottering wooden tower stationed upon it.

"What are you talking about?" Casey asked, still a little abrupt, though after two hours of helping the younger woman wind down with board games and light banter, Olivia was beginning to realize that was just her general deportment.

"Attorney's always have a hard-on for the rules. Alex was the same," Olivia said, unable to hide a slight chuckle as Casey narrowed her malachite colour eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she attempted a scowl.

"Well, I can't vouch for Cabot, but speaking for myself, I'm afraid it is physiologically impossible for me to have a hard-on for anything," Casey said, deliberately playing up to Olivia's earlier assertion that the Attorney had a great deal of trouble shaking off the prosecutors mindset even when outside of the office.

"Good to know," Olivia said, refocusing on the task at hand and reaching for a loose looking block of the Jenga tower the two were presently deconstructing.

"I would have hoped you'd already know that," Casey said, eyebrows raised in mock offence. The joke was perhaps waning a little, but it was the first time Olivia had managed to get a conversational volley running with the ADA, and she didn't want to fall back into the awkward silence punctuated only by stilted questions about work and progress on open cases.

"I can't say I've given it a lot of thought counsellor," Olivia laughing a little as an impressively bright vermilion shade took Casey's cheeks; perhaps at the realization that they were presently debating her reproductive organs. Olivia slowly slid the long, laminated wooden brick out of the tower, mindful of how far the game had gone. The structure began to wobble precariously, and instinctively, the Detective used the other hand to steady it.

"Hey, I just told you!" Casey admonished sternly, "it clearly states in the rule book that only one hand may be in contact with the tower at any time!"

Olivia was glad that her infraction had changed the subject, "alright, alright," she said with an overplayed sigh, holding the offending left hand aloft whilst she delicately removed the piece, remarkably successfully.

"Your move Novak," she announced gleefully, plonking the piece atop the structure with victorious flair.

Casey eyed the tower seriously, leaning forward and rolling the sleeves of her baby-blue button down up to her elbows. She meant business.

She cocked her head to the side, getting another angle on the building facsimile.

"The blocks aren't going to move themselves," Olivia smiled, shuffling around to join the ADA on the other side of the coffee table, "unless you have some hidden telekinetic powers you failed to tell us about."

*****

Casey was so engrossed in her building survey that she barely noticed the brunettes approach. Casey was competitive, she wouldn't deny that.

Be it in the courtroom sat at the prosecutors desk, on the softball field lining up her bat on home plate, or even in the living room of a Police Detective, eyeing a classic board game, she liked to win.

Spotting a good candidate for removal, Casey reached for a block, biting the corner of her lower lip, her expression a study in concentration. Slowly, but steadily she began to slide the brick from its place.

"Shit!" Casey yelped abruptly, starting at a sudden, surprising feeling of the Detective tickling her left side. The movement toppled the Jenga tower. The collapse was catastrophic, narrow wooden bricks scattering every which way. She was still flustered as she observed Olivia roll back onto the floor, disabled with laughter.

"Tickling Detective?" She questioned, tugging her shirt down over the affected area self-consciously, her flank still tingling from the surprise contact, "there is no way that is allowed." She added, when Olivia's mirth showed no sign of relenting.

Olivia slowly rose to a seated position again, rubbing at her eyes with the cuff of her long-sleeve t-shirt, "it says you can't touch the tower, I assure you, it says _nothing_ about touching other players."

Casey exhibited her fiercest glare, picking up the rulebook to confirm. After a few moments deliberation, she had to concede, "well that's a gaping loophole."

"Your reputation is in the toilet Counsellor, wait until the defence attorney's find out all they need to defeat ADA Novak is one of these," she said, wriggling her index finger threateningly.

"I'm not ticklish, you just surprised me," Casey said, crossing her arms and jutting her chin out defiantly.

"Really?" Olivia asked, a worryingly mischievous grin curving her full lips.

"Uh-huh." Casey nodded, nervous despite herself. There was no way Olivia Benson would test the theory. There was no way a Detective from her Police squad was about to attempt first-degree tickling on their appointed Officer of the Court.

Or so she thought.

*****

Olivia wasn't sure what came over her, but before she knew it, she had lunged at the young attorney, both hands making their way just under the younger woman's button-down, fingers wriggling maniacally against the sensitive skin of her tummy.

"Liv! God! Oh…stop!" She protested between involuntary giggles, rendered wholly useless by the Detectives ministrations. After Casey had tumbled onto her back, face a bright shade of red, Olivia decided her point was proved, and she allowed the ADA to get a hold of herself.

"Sorry Casey, I couldn't help it!" Olivia said, still internally tickled by Casey's intense reaction.

"I can't believe you did that," Casey said, returning to her normal shade of pale.

"Jenga rematch?" Olivia asked innocently.

_**Olivia**_

To this day, I don't know what possessed me that night.

I saw her so tense, so broken up about the case and I had to do something, even if it did blur the lines of our professional relationship. I won't pretend that little bit of physical contact meant anything to me at the time, my fingers fluttering over the impossibly soft, ashen skin of her stomach, but something in me changed. She stayed a little longer after the Jenga game, and then Elliot was due home so she bid me farewell, and I just remember a strange, almost imperceptible sense of sadness as she walked out the door. When Elliot eventually arrived home from the precinct, I guess he was sick of the sound of her name as I recounted every details of our silly little night in.

He nodded tiredly, humouring me.

I guess it all seemed innocent back then, even in my own mind.

_**Casey**_

The night after I first played board games with Olivia at she and Elliot's apartment, I just remember smiling stupidly all the way home.

The doorman stationed within my apartment building must have thought that it was my birthday. And that I had got laid. More than once.

I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, nearly laughing to myself as I played the evening back in my head, the Jenga, the banter, the tickling. Olivia had been so attentive, and so intent on making me forget all about the messy case.

And she had succeeded.

All I could think about was seeing her again at the office the next day, how she would tease me about my ticklishness, and how I would staunchly defend myself, if only to keep up the in-joke, then we'd maybe arrange to do it again, next time Elliot was out, or maybe just at my place instead.

It was all so harmless. I didn't recognize my daydreaming as the first signs of a crush developing, but I guess you never really spot the loose thread right away.

Not until it snags and damn near unravels everything.


	3. The Best Laid Plans

**A/N: Okay, updating, I fail at it. Often. (or not often enough as the case may be!) I promise sincerely to update more often dammit!(my returning insomnia should help with that endevour!)**

**Another thing to add to the list of things which I fail at would be writing. This is a bit of a goofy chapter (much like the last…) but I feel the need for a little scene setting, so bear with me.**

**Anyhoo, please read on, and I would be very much obliged if you could leave your thoughts on the lovely shiny review page to let me know how much I fail, or not. It would make the little hamster in the wheel powering my brain do a little victory dance!**

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_**Casey**_

The first time I realized that I liked women, I was fourteen and it wasn't so much a thunderbolt as it was a steady, rising panic in my gut.

I'm the dead centre middle child in a family of five, two older sisters, and a younger sister and brother, courtesy of the catholic churches stance on contraception.

And courtesy of said religious persuasions stance on homosexuality, lets just say I didn't run out, get my hair cut, pick up KD Lang's back catalogue and buy myself a rainbow bandana.

I swallowed it, all through high school, and I guess my parents thought I was too focused on studying to think about boyfriends. My Dad for one wasn't about to complain about my lack of interest in all things male. I think he was just glad he didn't have to scare off any prospective suitors like he did with my sisters.

College was a different story.

I came out of my shell, and I guess a little out of the proverbial closet. I was away from home, away from the small town I grew up in where everyone knew everyone's business and were only too happy to share.

I met a girl, Julie. She was pretty, in a boyish kind of way, gay and very much out. And in New York, no one batted an eyelid at another lesbian on campus, she was just…free. That was entirely alien to me, and I guess that's what drew me to her.

Eventually, I worked up the nerve to talk to her, and I'd never felt anything like it. That tickling of butterflies in my stomach, lightheadedness, tripping over my words attempting to piece together simple small talk. I got her number, and things progressed from there.

We went on a few dates, and it was amazing, just being with her, talking, holding hands. We even made out a few times, but I always made an excuse before things went any further. I had no idea what I was doing, and the idea of going to bed with her and showing up my total lack of experience terrified me. God, I didn't have the slightest clue how one even went about lesbian sex. I was embarrassingly innocent.

Then one day, we were walking across campus, she had her arm around me, one hand in the back pocket of my jeans as was her custom when we walked straight into my eldest sister, Sarah.

To say I was shitting myself would have been an understatement.

I stepped away from Julie, and ignored the confused look on her face as I introduced her as my roommate. Turned out my sister had come to drop off some books I'd left at my parents last time I'd been home. After Sarah left, Julie was pissed. Ultra pissed.

I tried to make excuses, but her final words to me rung true: "You're ashamed of me."

And she was right, though not half as ashamed as I was of myself. We never spoke after that and I can't say I blame her. I was a coward.

I suppose in a lot of ways I still am.

After that I threw myself into coursework and forgot about the whole thing, Julie moved on with another girl, and I never really saw her around. She graduated before I did, and maybe that was for the best. A year or so later I met a guy called Charlie. He was good company, and I liked him enough that sex wasn't too awkward, though I never felt anything like fireworks for him. He was my best friend, and it just made sense. It was the easy option. When he proposed, I said yes without hesitation, and my Mom was so proud. Even more proud than when I picked up my law degree.

After all that happened with him, after I left him, I had ample excuse to avoid romantic involvement with anyone.

And that is the rather underwhelming romantic history of Casey Novak. But it wasn't like I was cut up about it; I was content to be by myself.

Until Olivia came along.

Honest to God, it started as innocent friendship. After I got the job at the DA's office, making friends in Manhattan hadn't been easy. I've never been gregarious, and with the hours Branch had me working I didn't have much time for eating and sleeping, never mind socializing.

We would talk for hours, after work, and on her frequent trips to my office. And not just about work either. Within a few months, I had told Olivia things I hadn't told people I'd consider my closest friends. I always thought she would get tired of listening to me ramble on about my childhood, school years, or anything else that came into my head. But she never did and it was so good to finally have someone to talk to, someone who understood all the chaos that came with my job, and the emotional toll that it took.

I knew I felt something more when I started to miss her.

On the nights when we didn't get time for our post-work chats, or when she was away for days working herself half to death on a case, or on the rare occasions she took vacation time with Elliot I missed her terribly. I'd stay up at night thinking about her, wondering where she was, what she was doing.

Remembering it now, it feels sort of pathetic. I was a love-struck teenager all over again. And when I finally saw her again, or even heard her voice on the telephone, the rush that went through me was…incredible. I was finding out how it really felt to actually _like _someone, seriously, and it was exhilarating and heart-breaking at the same time. I fall for someone, someone I care about enough that I'd considering saying fuck what the world and my family say about my sexuality and she's straight. And married for that matter.

I swear to God I never planned to do anything about it. Never.

But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.

_*****_

Olivia Benson gave a cursory knock to the door before waltzing straight into the office of ADA Novak. After five months with the new attorney, they had moved beyond such courtesies as waiting for an invitation to come in. Things moved fast in the world of Special Victims Unit, and so did the Detectives.

"Casey, we need a warrant for…" Olivia's words trailed off as she caught the shell-shocked look on the redheads face, "what's up?"

Casey gave a tense smile and shook her head, "nothing, what can I do for you Detective?"

"Uh, we need a warrant for the McCabe residence," Olivia said, joining Casey on the other side of her desk by the ADA's large, heavily populated bookcase.

"Fin called this morning, it's already in the works…" Casey suddenly become distracted by her office door, and before Olivia could ask what she was looking at, Casey whispered "…shit! Get down!" in an urgent tone and grabbed the Detective by her jacket, yanking her to the floor behind her desk.

Adrenaline shocked through her veins and Olivia was instantly in cop mode: gun drawn swiftly from the holster clipped to her belt, cautiously peering over the desk, her dark eyes roving for the would be assailant, her free hand placed firmly on Casey's shoulder to ensure she stayed out of the line of fire.

"God, Liv, put the gun away!" Casey said in a whisper shout, "it's just Liz!"

Olivia's mouth hung open as she returned her firearm to its station, "we're hiding down here from your boss?!

Casey bit her lower lip and directed her eyes to the interestingly patterned carpet of her office, "Donnelly's looking for me, she wants to chew me out over that plea bargain I made without her consent. I told my secretary to tell her I was out of the office."

Olivia couldn't help a little chuckle, "Case, didn't you think it might be wise to actually _be _out of the office?"

"I only came back to pick up one of my reference books, then you showed up," Casey shrugged, now blushing fiercely at her frankly rather humorous predicament.

"You do realize you might actually have to talk to your boss at some point during the rest of your employment here, right?" Olivia asked teasingly, managing to raise a smile from the other woman.

"I know," she sighed, still giving an occasional cautious peep over the desk, "I've just had a hell of a day, and I wanted to save the ass-kicking for tomorrow. Gives me something to look forward to in the morning,"

Olivia took in the weary look on Casey's face. It was impossible to resist those pleading green eyes, especially from such close range. Besides, Olivia had been the one urging Casey to plead that case out. The least she could do was offer Novak a temporary reprieve.

"Alright, you wait, I'll distract her. I'll page you when the coast is clear. Meet me out front in ten."

*****

Casey observed silently as Olivia exited her office, leaving the door slightly ajar; a tactical move no doubt. Despite feeling more than a little silly and juvenile crouching behind her own desk, she also felt touched that Olivia had agreed to rescue her. It was almost…chivalrous. A few moments later, she saw Olivia walk back past the door, Elizabeth Donnelly at her side.

_Son of a bitch, _Casey thought. She'd actually managed to distract her. Right on cue, Casey's pager buzzed and she didn't waste any time following her instructions.

_Ten minutes later_

"Mission accomplished, and here we are at the extraction point," Olivia announced gleefully as she slipped out the front exit, her dazzling smile on full beam.

"Thanks Liv, but I'm still going to be extracting Liz's foot from my ass tomorrow when she catches up with me," Casey said.

"Maybe not," Olivia said, tucking her hands into the pockets of her trademark brown leather jacket. It was a good look for the other woman. Casey had experimented with a black leather jacket of her own for a few weeks, but had switched back to her blue trench-coat after a few people had asked what she rode, and she had to admit ownership of a pushbike, complete with a little basket in the front to house her briefcase and the occasional grocery bag.

"Why, did you surreptitiously slip her tranquillisers while you were in there?" Casey joked.

"Nope," Olivia said, nonchalantly, "I told her I pressured you into it. She was pissed, but she should go easier on you tomorrow."

Casey raised her eyebrows, surprised that anyone would risk the wrath of EADA Donnelly voluntarily, "you didn't have to do that," she said softly.

"I wanted to, you went to the mat on this one for us Casey,"

"Thank you…I feel like I need to repay you somehow," Casey said, following Olivia as she began to walk away.

"Coffee sounds good," Olivia said, linking arms with the attorney when she caught up.

"You name the place," Casey said, attempting to ignore the neurons firing up a thunderstorm in her brain over the physical contact, and the prospect of an evening with the object of her affection.

It was a harmless crush, Casey spent all day steadily focused on the harsh realities of her job, it couldn't hurt to occasionally indulge in a little fantasy. And besides, what Benson didn't know wouldn't hurt her.


	4. Saved by the El

**A/N: Argh! This chapter took forever to write, and I'm still not too happy with the way it came out, so apologies in advance! It's seven shades of awkward, but I'm going to attribute that to fact that I've run out of coffee and had to settle for tea instead. Enough excuses anyhow. Thank you for the shiny reviews, the hamster in my mind indeed did a happy dance, though it's now tired out and is nibbling idly on a salt-stick.**

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_**Casey**_

A couple more months passed, and things went on pretty much the same.

I carried on spending time with Liv when I could, holding my first grader crush to my chest and staying ever so careful to never allow myself to entertain the idea of anything more.

After all, it was a hopeless situation, and maybe that was a comfort in some way. I could keep pining after her without having to worry about the risk of anything complicated and potentially heartbreaking like a relationship developing.

But then I made a mistake, and it's not the one you think. That one came later.

Six months into my tenure as the special victims unit's ADA, I was still new to dealing with rapists, abusive husbands and child molesters; generally violent criminals, or at least those with a vast capacity for it.

The worst thing that had happened to me in an interview room during my time in white collar was a company CEO calling me a jumped up little bitch after I nailed him for siphoning off company profits to fund a blossoming crack addiction.

Let's just say the perps commonly found in the SVU interview rooms are a little less…docile, though I suppose common sense ought to have told me not to crack wise at the expense of a man with "KILL" tattooed brazenly across his knuckles.

Knuckles which promptly met with my face at high velocity, though the seven stitches I later required to repair my chin were actually made necessary by my subsequent collision with the table.

Elliot gave him one for me (not that I saw him nail the bastard, I was a little unconscious at the time), and proudly informed me that my seven stitches and concussion made me the new holder of the "perp-whacked" record; a title imbued on the unfortunate member of the squad who had managed to get themselves most spectacularly KO'd by a perp. Apparently, John Munch was the previous holder.

Boy was I ever pissed off when I found out there wasn't even a trophy.

But the real trouble came after, the Doctor insisted I wasn't alone--head injuries and their 'unpredictable nature' and all that--and since I have no family in New York, plus with the hours Branch had me on I was lucky to get time to sleep and eat let alone socialize, I had little choice but to stay a few days with Olivia and Elliot.

Olivia said it would be fun, and even put in some of her much underused vacation time to stop home with me.

The week started well, with Elliot away we just slobbed around watching films, experimenting with strange recipes from daytime cooking shows, board games of course. But by the fifth day, I was climbing the walls.

Call me a workaholic, but I missed my office, the courtroom, the drama.

That and the situation was getting awkward. For me at least, I don't think Liv had a clue. She even insisted at one point on giving me a shoulder rub for crying out loud. I doubt she knew what her hands on me in that way would do to me.

She asked why I was so tense midway through and I figured 'because you're making me wet…' would have stopped her, but also led to a rather difficult conversation…

So when Olivia suggested that we head over to the local bar to shoot some pool, I was practically out the door before she'd had a chance to unlock it.

******

"You suck," Casey surmised, as Olivia's bankshot failed miserably. Olivia pouted, dragging her cue dejectedly as she joined Casey at the head of the table.

"That's not fair, I got one ball in…"

"Right, the white one. Nice pot…"

"Hey!" Olivia said, giving the attorney a playful shove, "I'm gonna let you off on that on account of your head injury, but any more unsporting behaviour and I'm going to have to challenge you to my sport: darts."

Casey smirked, leaning over the table and lining up her play for the eight ball: the winning shot, "are you kidding me? With the way you've been aiming today, I don't think I want to be near you whilst you're armed with sharpened projectiles…"

Olivia let out a 'humph' of consternation, and just as Casey struck the cue ball, sending it gliding neatly toward its goal, Olivia snatched the eight-ball up from the table, depositing it right back in place as soon as the white had sailed into the pocket.

She feigned surprise, "well would you look at that! Guess you're not quite the pool shark you thought you were Case…"

"Liv! Again with the rules!"

Olivia leant against the pool table, affecting her best ham actor voice, "honey…I don't play by the rules."

"Fine, but you still forfeit," Casey said, settling her cue back into the rack.

"Only because I _seriously _need the bathroom. Your round winner, I'll meet you back at the bar," and with that, Olivia ambled off in the direction of the establishments bathrooms, leaving Casey to hop onto a bar stool and order another couple of beers.

Just as the barman placed two frosty bottles of Budweiser in front of her, Casey felt someone take up the stool next to her. Thinking it was Olivia, she turned with a beaming smile, only to be greeted by a total stranger.

"Hey," the Man said eagerly, clearly taking her enthusiastic grin as a good sign.

"Oh…hey…" Casey replied, surreptitiously peering over his shoulder to see if Olivia was on her way back yet. He looked like a creep, but not the dangerous sort. Just the inebriated, slimy sort.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He said, his sightline flickering between her eyes and the partially undone buttons of her black lacoste collar shirt.

Casey picked up her bottle from the bar, taking a brief sip, "I'm good thanks,"

"I'll just keep you company then,"

At that moment, Olivia made a convenient return, "hey, is this guy bothering you?" She asked, eyeing Casey's new friend suspiciously. The man glared back over his shoulder at the Detective,

"Cool it doll, we're just talking,"

Olivia narrowed her eyes, "yeah? Well start walking. She's not interested." Casey tried not to swoon at Olivia getting all uptight and protective, but it was difficult.

The man let out a little snort, "and who are you? Her girlfriend?"

Olivia shot a quick smirk to Casey, and mounted the bar stool on the opposite side, placing one hand affectionately on the ADA's thigh.

"Yes actually. You got a problem with that?"

His expression was a vision, and Casey struggled to keep her doe -eyed, genuine façade in place. Once he recovered from the shock and ceased doubling for a guppy, he hopped off the barstool, muttering something about 'fucking dykes' as he returned to his corner.

As soon as he was out of earshot, both women descended into a fit of giggles which lasted several minutes.

*******

After the bar, Casey and Olivia returned home, still mirthful from their earlier encounter.

Casey sat on the couch, sifting through DVD's, Olivia having given her executive choice over their choice of film for the night. Olivia's film collection was eclectic to say the least, though she definately had a softspot for classic chick flicks. All the staples were there, Dirty Dancing, Pretty Woman, My Best Friends Wedding.

Olivia returned from the kitchen, placed a bowl of freshly popped corn onto the coffee table and slumped down on the couch next to her co-worker, close enough that their legs touched just a little.

"We better get that film on, Elliot'll probably be back soon," Olivia said, toying idly with an unpopped kernel.

"Wait till we tell him what happened at the bar," Casey said, "I can't believe that creep believed you!"

Olivia shrugged, "hey, he wouldn't be the first person to think that; you should have heard the rumours going round the precinct before I married El..."

"And you don't have a problem with that?" Casey asked, as casually as she could manage, though she was secretly delighted the subject had come up.

Olivia shuffled about a little, making herself comfortable, "nope, doesn't bother me. Why would it?"

"I don't know, because you're not?"

"Doesn't mean I've never thought about it," Olivia said nonchalantly, reading the brief synopsis on the back cover of the Steven Speilberg remake of 'war of the worlds'.

"I have," Casey blurted rather abruptly into the silence, her mind rushing to catch up with her admission, and deciding how much more to admit to.

"You have what? Olivia asked, placing the DVD down, suddenly interested, or perhaps Casey was misinterpreting it.

Under Olivia's intense stare, Casey lost her nerve a little, "um…I've kissed a girl."

"Really? I would never expect that from you," Olivia said, her gaze unwavering.

"Why not?" Casey asked, pretending it wasn't a big deal, despite the fact that she had never admitted that to anyone else, and even the thought of doing so had always twisted her stomach into a tight knot.

"I don't know, I haven't," Olivia said softly. Did she lean in, almost imperceptibly?

Casey had never been a quick decision maker. All her life, she weighed the odds carefully, added up the possible scenarios, ensuring that the positive outcomes vastly outnumbered the negative. She bet on sure things, not long shots. And perhaps that habit had robbed her of several opportunities, but it was safe, and she liked safe.

So, in the awkward silence that fell between the women, Casey knew there was an opening to make a move, but nearly every scenario that could possibly result from closing the narrow distance between herself and Olivia ranged from awkward, to catastrophic. It was an all-in move, and there would be no way to play it off as a joke or a misunderstanding. There were a million ways kissing Olivia could go horribly wrong, but for reasons Casey couldn't comprehend, all her careful, logical calculating fell away, and instead she found herself leaning closer, slowly, giving the other woman ample chance to back up and placed the briefest of kisses onto her lips, pulling back quickly.

Olivia predictably looked shell-shellshocked, on pause. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, a key sounded in the front door.

"Liv! Casey! You here?" Elliot called from the hall.

"Elliot's back," Olivia said stating the obvious, shooting to her feet at near inhuman speeds, "I'll see if he wants to watch the film with us."


	5. Comfort

**A/N My writing stride is coming back! Joy! Thanks for the nice reviews on the previous chapter, as always. They make rainbows in my heart (I think I've said that before, but it still stands…)**

**I don't have much else to say, other than shoot me a review if you've got a mo, I don't bite (hard…)**

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**Chapter Five: Comfort**

**Casey**

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

What the hell was I thinking?

I kissed Olivia Benson. Right on the mouth. With little or no provocation.

I wish I could blame it on the drink, but I'd only had a couple at the bar. Olivia knows drunk, and she knows I wasn't.

I don't know what I thought would happen, that she would kiss me back, rip off her wedding ring and we'd both hop a plane to Vegas together and have a big gay wedding and live happily ever after on a little farm in Virginia with our adopted kids and a golden Labrador named Buddy.

I guess I didn't think that far ahead. In that moment, I wanted to kiss her so much that I let my judgement slip. I let my emotions overrule my common sense and I was dead set on never making that mistake again.

And I didn't.

But she did.

**Olivia**

It was easy, really. Simple.

There was an obvious approach to take which required no thought or decision making.

I was a heterosexual, married woman. My friend, an apparently not so heterosexual woman came onto me.

The reasonable thing to do was approach Casey, explain that I was happy with Elliot, and men in general, and hope that we could move past the awkwardness.

Which is what I did. It went well, and I didn't give it too much thought.

But then I had a fight with Elliot.

And everything got a lot less simple.

*****

Casey heard a knock on her office door, shortly before it swung open, revealing Olivia.

Sitting safely behind her desk, surrounded by the comforts of her familiar workspace, Casey still felt ill at ease. After Elliot had come home, they had watched the movie, studiously avoiding eye contact. Elliot was blissfully ignorant of the elephant in the room, and Casey had promptly announced that she was feeling much better, and was about ready to go home. She'd stewed all weekend, wondering whether to pick up the phone to Olivia and fumble together some lame excuse, but had instead opted to ignore the situation, and hope Olivia would do the same.

"Can we talk?" Olivia asked, in a tone which made it apparent that Olivia was not going to let it slide.

Casey swallowed hard. This was not a conversation she wanted to have this side of ever, so she announced, "Sorry, I've got an arraignment, I really need to…"

Olivia raised her hand, "this'll only take a minute."

Casey nodded, furtively wringing her hands below the desk as her stomach tied knots a boy scout would be proud of, "alright," she nodded, joining Olivia on her office sofa, pointedly sitting as far from the other woman as the chair would allow.

"Look, what happened at my house the other day, I think I might have given you the wrong idea, and I'm sorry…"

"No, I'm sorry," Casey said, "I was just goofing around, I got silly, I didn't mean anything by it, I think that…" she was rambling, and was glad when Olivia cut her off,

"Casey. It's fine. Now, I don't want things to be awkward with us, but I need you to know that can't happen again."

"It won't, trust me," Casey said, keeping her eyes low.

*****

TWO MONTHS LATER

Olivia had said she didn't want things to be awkward, but of course they were at first. Their after work chats had been cut short, and their at work interaction was stilted and strange. But eventually, it blew over, and their friendship resumed much the same as had been before.

It was a Friday evening, and Casey sat huddled up on her sofa, channel surfing, watching junk TV. The working week had been stressful, a few cases had come to a head, the detectives had been at each others throats over differing opinions and Casey had done everything to keep herself out of the squad room. She didn't like to get into their squabbles, she preferred to wait until the evidence gave her a solid case either way and prosecute the most likely suspect. Getting involved just complicated things. That was a stance Casey took in many aspects of her life. Rain spattered against the window, large droplets jarring the fire escape, and she thumbed the volume button on the remote, to block out the sounds. It very nearly blocked out the sound of a gentle knock on her door.

Casey gave a glance to the VCR clock. 10:34pm.

Stretching lethargically, she made sure to peer through the peephole before opening the door. It wasn't exactly a sociable hour for a visitor to swing by.

She was surprised to see a rain soaked detective stood dejected in the building hallway. She immediately unlatched the door,

"Olivia what are you doing here?" Casey asked, stepping aside to allow the other woman to trudge inside, her shoes making an audible squelch. Her normally waved chestnut hair was damp, and plastered to her head. She wasn't even wearing a coat.

"Elliot and I had a fight," Olivia said as Casey relocked the door.

"You wanna talk about it?" Casey asked gently, resisting the urge to pull the Detective into a hug, and not just because she was wringing with rain water and physically dripping onto Casey's laminate wooden floor.

Olivia slowly shook her head in the negative, "not really. Would you mind if I crashed on your sofa for a couple of days?"

"No, of course not," Casey said, "you want to get a shower?"

Olivia roughed her rain soaked hair thoughtfully, "thanks, I'm fucking freezing."

"Alright, I'll go grab you some clean clothes," Casey said. Olivia trod on the heel of her shoes in sequence, padding toward the bathroom in her socks.

"Thank you Casey, I mean it."

*****

Olivia had been quiet as the evening progressed, Casey had tried to draw her out on what had happened between she and Elliot, but Olivia was insistent that was a closed subject. Eventually Casey dropped it, they put a DVD on and made light conversation until around midnight, when the early start both had had began to take its toll and Casey retired to her bed, issuing Olivia with her spare duvet and a couple of pillows.

Despite the disruption to her usual evening routine, exhausted and snug under her blankets and her favourite oversized baseball jersey, it didn't take Casey long to drift off into a blissful sleep.

Until she was rather rudely awakened.

*****

Olivia and Elliot's relationship was never, ever a violent one. Elliot would have swallowed his gun before he laid a finger on her.

But both were passionate people, and that had its upsides, and significant downsides.

Verbally, they beat each other black and blue. They didn't fight often, but when they did, it was no holds barred. Both knew each others history, and they would dredge up everything to hurt one another. Elliot had brought up her mother, she had brought up his ex-wife. They'd yelled and cursed to loud that if they weren't the cops, the neighbours would have called them.

Usually they stormed into other rooms, cooled off, never really apologized, but just mutually acknowledged they were wrong and moved on.

This time was different.

The rows had been escalating all week, and even when they weren't fighting, Elliot was baiting her, trying to draw her into an argument. Olivia knew why, he was stressed, the case had taken a lot out of them all. He needed to blow off steam, and she was a convenient target. She'd done the same to him on occasion, she didn't blame him, but that didn't stop his words hurting.

It had gotten on top of her, and then there was the fact that she had a way out this time.

Casey.

She knew the ADA would gladly take her in, but it wasn't that. She wasn't just looking for a place to stay.

After laying awake for about an hour, thoughts tumbling through her head, she pushed the duvet off, and padded quietly to Casey's bedroom, opening the door to find the attorney away in peaceful dreams.

She slept haphazardly, her tall frame sprawled, covering an admirable amount of her double bed. Olivia took a seat at the foot of the bed. Casey stirred lightly but remained fast asleep. Olivia sat patiently, watching.

*****

Casey had been in the middle of a slightly nonsensical dream; it seemed Minnie Mouse was fighting a paternity case with Mickey and Casey was with the prosecution, when she was awoken by a noise. Rolling onto her back and blinking into the darkness, she was startled by a solitary figure stationed at the end of her bed. She jumped a little before her senses caught up and she remembered it was just Olivia.

"Hey," Olivia said, remaining in place.

"Jesus, you scared me a little there," Casey said, stifling a yawn as she wriggled into a seated position. When no more words were forthcoming from the Detective, she added, "couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," Olivia said distantly. She couldn't make out the other womans expression in the darkness. Casey slowly slid herself across the bed, until she was seated next to Olivia, her bare legs dangling off the bed.

"I'm not surprised, that leather sofa looked great in the showroom, but it's a bitch to take a nap on,"

"The sofa's fine, that's not why I couldn't sleep," Olivia said. Her voice was strange, as was her demeanour. Casey sighed. Why did the Detective have to decide she finally wanted to talk just as she was entering a quality REM cycle?

"Is there something you wanted to get off your chest?" Casey asked the still silent woman.

"Sort of," Olivia said, turning to face her in the dark, though from close proximity, Casey could read trepidation on her face. Perhaps her spat with Elliot had been more serious than she thought. Casey hadn't expected it to be more than the usual pride motivated storm out.

She certainly didn't expect what happened next.

Olivia reached a hand out, brushing her fingers over Casey's cheek. Olivia said nothing as she moved her hand around, placing it on the back of Casey's neck and pulling her into a gentle kiss.

Casey instinctively closed her eyes, but her body was frozen, her still sleep clouded mind trying to catch up with events with Olivia's lips pressing soft, hesitant kisses to her own.

Perhaps this wasn't the time for thinking things through too hard.

Deciding the stunned guppy approach wasn't helpful, Casey returned the kisses, leaning closer and placing her hands chastely on Olivia's upper arms as the detective stroked her free hand up Casey's presently bare and accessible upper thigh, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

In response to Casey's encouragement, Olivia pushed Casey back onto the bed, laying her upper half on top of the younger woman, chest to chest as she continued the tentative kisses, giving Casey's lower lip a gentle suck before brushing her tongue across it in a polite request.

Casey parted her lips, allowing the other woman entrance to gently taste, investigate, as she wrapped her arms around Olivia's back, slipping the borrowed pjyama shirt up a little to get her own feel of skin. God Olivia was soft. The contours of her lower back were an artwork all of their own.

Olivia's mouth left Casey's and began to work down her neck, planting feather light kisses before placing one lingering one on her ear and whispering hotly,

"I want you."

Casey froze again. Something inside her mind snapped at those words.

God help her.

Without being rough, she pushed Olivia off and sat up abruptly, taking a deep breath to try to work some oxygen back into her brain.

"I can't do this," Casey spat the words out before her body had second thoughts.

Olivia looked puzzled as she sat herself next to Casey, placing a hand back on her thigh,

"I thought you wanted this?" Olivia whispered, trying to catch her eyes, but Casey kept them to the wall. Looking into those chocolate brown orbs was not going to do anything for her resolve. Neither was answering Olivia's query honestly.

"What anyone wants right now is immaterial," Casey said, cringing at her own lawyerly words, "you're married, that's it."

Olivia retracted her hand, leaving a tingling in its place, "so what am I supposed to do?"

Casey shut her eyes, regretting her words before they even came out, "go back home to Elliot."

She felt the bed springs relax as Olivia got to her feet.

"Alright. I'll get dressed."

The bedroom door clicked shut behind her and Casey buried her head in her pillow wondering why she had picked now to be so sensible.

Sometimes, doing the right thing just sucked.


	6. A Proposal

**A/N uggggggggh. Apologies for the giant delay between chapters. Muchous shit has gone off.**

**I am however back in the writers seat, and for better or worse, here is a new chapter with a plot twist I was very unsure about throwing in. Unfortunately, my muse has been pretty absent and therefore I haven't had a chance to run this by her (you know who you are lass…)**

**I think I require a backup idea bouncer-offer(I'm aware that is not a word)**

**And much love for you lovely folk who have reviewed, and I shall try to be nicer and reward you with many shiny updates soon x**

**Additionally, this story is going to start damn well earning its M rating from the next chapter on, you have been warned!**

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**Chapter Six: A Proposal**

**Olivia**

It was never going to be easy for me to be a good wife.

Marriage was always going to be a difficult proposition for someone with my track record.

Every relationship, familial, friendly or romantic, when the going got tough, I've always reacted the same way.

Running.

The cohabitation that marriage generally requires makes that strategy a little…difficult.

In my relationships before Elliot (if you can call the shamefully high number of brief encounters I've shared with men over the years that), when the gloss wore off and arguments and tiffs started, I walked away, either back to my empty apartment or straight into someone else's bed. But in my new role as Mrs Stabler, my apartment was perpetually inhabited by Mr Stabler, and the second option made me an adulterer, not just a woman of questionable virtue.

So instead I had to try staying put, working things out, 'standing by my man' as the song goes. I was doing so goddamn well until that night.

It shook me up.

I nearly lost everything, and for what? At the time, I thought it was just curiosity, or an urge to get back at Elliot, neither of which would have been worth throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to me.

At that point, I made a silent promise to myself. That I would be the poster girl for monogamy from that day forth. No more fucking around, literally, or figuratively.

And of course, I had to perfect excuse to not tell Elliot about the incident with Casey. Had I told him I'd kissed someone else, he wouldn't have given in until he knew who it was. I wasn't sure at that point if Casey was gay, bi, or just plain confused, but whichever it was, it wasn't fair to disclose the events of that night without her consent.

Hand on my heart, I was keeping the secret to spare her, not myself. At least that's the salve I used to assuage my own guilt.

Guilt has pushed me into a lot over the years, but there is a stronger motivator, as I later found out in ample measure. A drive which tugs from a much deeper, baser place than guilt.

Jealousy.

And I was doing the good wife thing so well.

**Casey**

I've always been your stereotypical 'good girl'. I'm punctual, I always turned my homework in on time at school, I drink in moderation, I don't do drugs or sleep around and I've never so much as had a library book overdue.

I'd like to say I spurned Olivia's advances that night because of my elevated morals and higher sense of honor, but that's bull.

I was scared. In that moment, of that moment, and of all the moments that could stream off from letting that moment run its course.

I was terrified that I'd be clumsy, that Olivia would expect me to know what I was doing and I'd let her down, but it was more than just performance anxiety. The question that I kept running into like a ten foot brick wall was "what next?"

Even if I had been a rock star in bed and fucked the Detective till kingdom come, what would we do in the morning, when we both woke up to the reality that she was married, we were both supposed to be straight, and we still had to work together every damn day?

I couldn't get past that at the time, and I guess those questions saved me from making a stupid mistake, and while I had feelings for Olivia, and apparently she did for me, it wasn't enough to blur the consequences. I still had them in my sights clearly, illuminated like a beaming red traffic light.

So I pushed it out of my thoughts, limited my contact with Olivia to try and quell my emotions, and avoid awkward, stilted stop start conversations. I continued with my routine laden life of working, eating, sleeping and occasionally smacking the fuck out of a softball when the frustrations added up.

Until I got a new outlet for my frustrations.

And my good girl status took a serious nosedive.

*****

It had been three months since the night Olivia had stayed over at Casey's, and while the awkwardness had subsided, their after work companionship had never recovered. It was as much as Casey expected. There was no way to play the incident off, and any alone time carried the unspoken risk of a repeat, so they avoided each other as much as possible.

In a lot of ways, Casey preferred it that way. Slowly, things were getting back to normal, pre-Olivia crush normal that is, and she had settled back into her comforting, if somewhat humdrum routine.

It was early evening and Casey was headed out of the courthouse, taking the whitewash stone steps two at a time, eager to hop on her pushbike and return to an evening of peace, quiet and CSI when she heard her name sound out.

"Casey!"

She froze, immediately recognizing the voice before the individual came into her sightline.

Alexandra Cabot, the new EADA replacing Liz Donnelly who had parted company with the DA's office to fulfil her new role as a Judge, and hence Casey's new boss, stood before her.

As ever, the blonde looked immaculate, her platinum locks fastened into a complex up-do, fitted grey suit pressed just so and tipped off with a pair of black stilettos. And of course, her trademark black framed glasses were ever present.

"Glad I caught you, I needed a…chat," Alex said, catching her breath. She wasn't the first person to have trouble keeping Casey's pace. She chalked it up to her long stride, and penchant for cycling and softball. And eagerness to get the hell home.

Casey tried to suppress an audible gulp. A 'chat' with your boss was rarely a good thing. Casey glanced down the stairs sadly at Daisy fastened mournfully to the bike rack (she had named her bike that when she had been in a particularly odd mood). They were mere yards from sweet reunion. She thought about feigning a dinner appointment, or some other unmovable engagement, but instead she said,

"well, you've caught me just in time, if you can give me like ten minutes I'll cycle back to the office and…"

Alex rose a hand and cut her off gracefully, "it's not something I really want to discuss at the office. Did you have any plans tonight? I know an amazing Italian place a few blocks from here and I am literally, physically starving," she withdrew her car keys from her jacket pocket, and Casey knew the invite was less than optional. She gave one wistful look to daisy, who she swore was giving her an evil glare with her safety lights before following her boss to the sleek, Mercedes SLK painted a matte shade of silver which complimented Cabot's grey two piece perfectly. Casey half wondered if Alex picked out a car to match her outfit in the morning like most women pick out shoes.

*****

There were worse things in life than being essentially kidnapped by your boss and forced to enjoy, an admittedly rather delectable seafood risotto in cosy surroundings.

They were onto their main course and second glass of wine and Alex had made an effort to keep things light, talking shop and current affairs. That said, as time passed, Casey became increasingly worried about what Alex's proposed 'chat' was about. If it was taking the normally forthright woman this long to spit it out, it had to be big.

She took some comfort from the fact however, that if she was being fired, it definitely wouldn't happen in a family owned Italian restaurant with classic, checkerboard table cloths. Probably.

Still, the question was burning in Casey's mind, so at the risk of ruining a perfectly pleasant evening with good company, she asked,

"So, what was it you needed to chat about?"

Alex gave an uncharacteristically tense smile, "I'm not sure I've had quite enough wine to tell you that just yet."

"It can't be that bad," Casey said, gaining a little confidence from Alex's faltering, "I assume if you were going to fire me, you'd do it in my office."

"Arthur's office actually, he'd need to be there," Alex corrected, "not that I've given it much thought." Though the words jumped out of her mouth quick enough to give Casey cause to think she may well have given it some thought.

"So…" Casey urged, still curious about what had gotten the normally composed attorney so flustered.

"Alright, I'm just going to come out and say it," Alex said grandly, placing down her glass which she had been fidgeting furtively with, "I may be wrong about this, but more often than not I'm right in matters of this nature. I get the feeling that you and I might share certain…predilections, so to speak."

Casey drew her brows together, totally befuddled both by Alex's words, and deportment,

"Law?"

Alex rolled her eyes, "yes Casey, we are both lawyers, both with the DA's office, which tends to place us somewhat in the public eye, meaning certain…interests have to take a backseat, for career reasons. Though there's no reason we can't enjoy said interests in private."

Casey frowned. She had never been big on talking between the lines. Even if it was an oxymoron, Casey really was a straight talking attorney, "I'm not sure I follow…"

"I was hoping we might come to an arrangement, together," Alex said, tilting her head as though her decelerated inflections might make her words clearer.

"Are you thinking of setting up a private law firm you'd like me to join?" Casey asked, taking a shot in the dark. It was the only thing she could possibly imagine this clandestine meeting could be about.

Alex took off her glasses and blinked slowly at her, "you know Casey, for a lawyer, you really don't catch on too quick."

"Alex, you're practically speaking in morse code here, spell it out," Casey said, frustration building with the whole cloak and dagger routine.

"I'm talking about casual sex," Alex said, loud enough that an palpable silence settled in near their booth. Casey nearly choked on her sauvignon blanc.

"Take a minute," Alex said, a slight smile curling her lips at the younger woman's reaction. Casey managed to compose herself, though her head was still spinning,

"With me?" She asked quietly, aware that the persons at nearby tables might be privy their discourse.

"No, with Arthur Branch," Alex said, shaking her head, "of course with you."

"Um, is that a good idea?" Casey stammered, trying to process the proposition Alex had tabled.

Alex Cabot wanted to sleep with her.

Sure, Alex was attractive. Hell, she was stunning, but the thought had never even crossed her mind. While Casey knew deep down that yes, she was attracted to women, it wasn't as though she spent all day checking out the ladies around her (Olivia being the exception to that).

"Sleeping with an employee? No, it's an awful idea, but that never stopped Jack McCoy, and I'd like to think you and I would be a little more…discreet," Alex said, making no effort to hide her amusement. Casey picked up her glass, taking a sizable swallow of wine, just to have something to do with her mouth other than talk. All her words had slid off down her throat in a cluttered tumble.

"Casey, I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, but here it is: I find you very attractive, and we're both adults, and if you are so disposed, I don't see why we can't have a little fun together. There will be absolutely no professional implications whether you accept or decline, and if you do decline, we never have to talk about this again," Alex reeled off calmly, as though she was tabling a fairly run of the mill business proposition.

"Okay," Casey nodded, eyes to the table bashfully.

"I don't need an answer right now," Alex said, digging around in her handbag, for a small notebook, jotting something down on a blank page with a silver parker pen, "this is my address, I'll be there at 8pm tomorrow. If I don't see you then, that is the last you'll hear of this."

Slowly, Casey rose her hand up and took the paper, stuffing it quickly into the breast pocket of her suit jacket, "okay."

Alex grinned, topping up Casey's glass, "Case, you can breathe now."

"I'm trying," Casey muttered, still wide-eyed.


	7. Arrangements

**A/N so, I'm presently working on the next, rather less kid friendly chapter of this, but I thought I'd post this for now. Next part should be up in a few short hours, so long as I manage it!**

**Thanks for the lovely reviews, as always, I shall try to find time to PM you all personally, but for now, I need to complete goddamn chapter 8!**

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**Chapter 7: Arrangements**

**Casey**

After Alex put forth her…proposal, things got a little awkward. For me at least, Alex seemed more amused than anything. My face must have been a picture. She drove me home and told me to think about it. I just nodded silently and jumped from the car as soon as it stopped at my apartment block, bidding a hasty goodbye.

Lets get one thing straight: This is not the sort of thing I do on a regular basis. If someone wanted to write a book about my sex life, they would barely end up with enough material for a pamphlet. My first thought was to throw away the little note as soon as I got home and never think about it again.

But I didn't.

In my defence, it had been a _long_ time.

*****

Decisions, decisions.

Casey stood in her bedroom, still dressed in her work garb, surveying her wardrobe options.

Casey liked to do things in their proper order, so the first item on the agenda was underwear choices. She had spilled the contents of both her bra and pants drawers onto her bed and was somewhat uninspired.

Generally, the only criteria Casey applied when selecting undergarments was clean and matching and when purchasing said underwear, comfort was her main concern.

Casey wasn't used to choosing underwear with a view to anyone seeing her in it, and thus she didn't own much that could legitimately be described as sexy.

Most of her underpants were girl boxers, a style she'd settled on when she realized that particular fit didn't ride up as much during sports. She owned them in multiple colours and patterns, and resigned that a last minute trip to the nearest lingerie shop was excessive, she selected a neat, pastel green pair and matching bra.

Undergarments selected, Casey opened her wardrobe and tried to decide what to put on top of them.

Her appointment with Alex wasn't technically a date, so she didn't want to embarrass herself by rocking up overdressed in a little black number or summer dress, but she wasn't au fait on what one wore to a random sexual encounter.

After trying on several items, she settled on a blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of indigo blue levi's that fit particularly well and a white pair of canvas allstars.

Satisfied that she looked relatively okay, if excessively casual, she grabbed a black hooded jacket from the door before heading out.

*****

Getting dressed, as it turned out, had been the easy part. Casey had grabbed a cab and it had arrived achingly quickly at the address Alex had scribbled down for her.

Now, outside the building, Casey had lit her second cigarette and still hadn't mustered the courage to go inside.

An autumn wind mussed her hair and whipped the smoke away as she leant back against the cool brick of the apartment building, seriously considering going home and chalking it up as a bad idea. It was a little past eight and the block was all but dead, spare the occasional taxi zipping past at a hurried pace.

With a sigh, Casey made her mind up, dropping her cigarette to the ground and putting it out with the heel of her allstars. Just as she was about to approach the sidewalk and hail a cab home, she heard a crackly voice.

"Casey, are you just going to stand out there all day littering, or are you coming up?"

Startled, Casey turned back to the door, realizing it had a rather inconspicuous intercom system.

"Um, Alex?" Casey said nervously to the little black box.

"The super just had this video intercom installed. I like it so far. I've buzzed the door open whenever you're ready."

Casey still contemplated turning on her heel and high tailing it, but Alex having clocked her presence made that a much less palatable option. Instead, she took a deep breath and stepped into the foyer.

*****

"I thought you weren't coming for a minute," Alex greeted, opening the door at the first knock.

Casey shrugged, doing her best impression of nonchalant, "well, here I am."

Alex stepped aside from the door, nodding Casey into the hallway. She entered slowly, hands in pockets, extremely conscious of the other womans appraising glare.

"You look good," Alex decided, eyes roving unabashedly over Casey's person. Casey flushed slightly at the complement and admitted,

"Thanks, I didn't really know what to wear,"

Alex shrugged, leading Casey into the living room, "it's not as though it matters, you won't be wearing it too long…"

Casey tried to hide her embarrassment at the frank comment by taking in Alex's apartment. It was the penthouse suite, as Casey had expected (that and the address Alex had given her said 'the penthouse') and the living room was an open, spacious affair, decorated in modern, neutral tones with precious few personal touches. The ceilings were high and the windows yawned out to the New York city lightshow.

Alex, who had disappeared for a moment, returned with a couple of glasses of blood red wine. Casey was relieved that the other woman hadn't dressed up for the occasion either, she wore a thin, oatmeal coloured sweater, and stonewash jeans, and a pair of fuzzy house slippers. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a loose chignon, a few stray tendrils framing her face.

"So," Casey said accepting the glass from Alex and joining her on the cream leather sofa, "you don't wear glasses outside of work?" It was a lame question, but it was better than awkward silence.

Alex gave a brief smile, "you wanna know a secret?" She said, crossing the room and picking up a small black box, glasses case from above the fireplace.

She handed them to Casey.

"Try them," she added, a strange, knowing smirk still playing about her lips. Casey frowned, hoping Alex wasn't into pranks, like perhaps storing a compressed, jumping snake in her glasses case.

"Alright," Casey said, snapping open the case and sliding on the thick framed D&G glasses. Surprisingly, her vision remained unchanged. Seeing her puzzled look, Alex explained,

"I had laser eye surgery while I was in the WPP, but when I came back, I found that I missed having something to fiddle with during court cases, plus I think they give me a certain air of professionalism. So they're just a prop."

"And they are your trademark," Casey said, returning the fake glasses to their case.

"Precisely," Alex said.

A silence settled between the two women and Casey quickly drunk the last of her wine. Getting drunk was definitely a good idea at that juncture, if only to still her jarred nerves.

"Okay," Alex said, abruptly, "I just want to lay out a few ground rules."

Casey promised herself that if Alex started talking about 'safe words', she had every reason to bolt.

"That sounds like a good idea," Casey concurred, even though she had no idea what Alex was going to suggest.

"I think the most obvious one would be, what happens here, stays here. I don't want any untoward rumours going around the office, that would be bad for both of us," Alex said.

"Obviously," Casey nodded.

"And the other rule is, I make the arrangements. If we're going to get together, I'll call you. Don't call me."

"Okay," Casey said, even if that rule sounded a little unfair. As far as she knew, booty calls worked both ways, but then again, Alex was the boss. Literally. Casey wasn't about to dispute it.

"Great, glad we got that cleared up," Alex said, still professional in demeanour, "anything you'd like to add?"

"Uh, I just wanted to let you know that I've never really done this before so I might be a little…" Casey searched for the right word in her expansive lawyerly lexicon, "inept."

Alex grinned, "which part, the sleeping with your boss part, or the sleeping with a woman?" Casey turned a shade of red that rivalled the liquid in her glass, "I'll take that rather adorable shade of pink you've just turned to mean both."

Alex stood up, setting her empty glass down on the coffee table, "well then Miss Novak, I am going to have a _wonderful_ time teaching you," she offered her hand to Casey, which she took, and Alex led her the short distance to the bedroom.


	8. Casual

**A/N Sweet fucking zeus, this took me a long time to do! Apologies to all! Thanks for the lovely shiny reviews and I really, reaaaaaaaaaaaaally will update faster next time. Promise. Also, I fail at proofing. But you know this already.  
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**Chapter 8: Casual**

**Casey **

Oh.

My.

God.

* * *

Casey hadn't entered Alex's bedroom with any particular expectations, mostly due to her thoughts tumbling ineloquently and incoherently as she tried her steady best to not embarrass herself in spectacular fashion.

Luckily, the room itself wasn't an intimidating affair. Decorated in the same neutral, impersonal tones as Alex's living room. Housing staple bedroom furniture such as a dresser, wardrobe, and bedside cabinet, and of course, the centrepiece, a rather gratuitously large four poster bed, like the one most girls at some point in their lives (usually during the 'princess' phase which Casey regrettably flirted with herself when in single digits) dreamed of owning. Casey was somewhat relieved. For some reason, she'd been unable to shake the fear that Alex's bedroom might be an temple to fetishism and bondage. It wasn't that the other woman had ever showed any overt propensity toward kinkiness, it was just Casey's imagination slamming into overdrive, concocting every possible catastrophic scenario.

Alex left Casey stood in the middle of the room as she paced off, rolling the dimmer switch to an ambience akin to dusk, a smile taking her face which could be described as either seductive, or predatory depending on ones point of view before returning to Casey.

"You know," Alex said, slowly encircling the other lawyer at the waist, pulling them into contact at the hips, "you can relax, this isn't a trip to the dentists, although…" Alex gave a wicked smiled and leaned close enough that her lips brushed Casey's ear as she spoke, in a lower, thicker tone, "…I can guarantee I _will _be asking you to lay on your back and open wide later." She punctuated her promise with a gentle nip of Casey's ear lobe.

Something went off in Casey's head.

What the fuck was she doing?

She had accepted Alex's invitation without duress, almost without thought.

But perhaps that was the point.

No thought was needed.

This meant nothing. Casual was the word Alex used, and that's what it was. Fucking, with nothing attached, no feelings, no pressure, no nothing.

This sojourn was pointless if she didn't let herself enjoy it. Bolstered with a fresh shot of confidence from this realization, Casey decided to turn the tables. Cabot was definitely getting off on Casey's nervous timidity, and that just would not do. She was Casey fucking Novak and she had faced down scarier things in her lifetime than an attractive, amorous attorney.

Casey took hold of Alex's shoulders, pushing her back onto the plush bed, and took advantage of the other womans surprise at her forward move to climb on top, straddling Alex rather smugly.

"What makes you think I'm the one who's going to be on her back?" Casey asked with a smirk, leaning down to plant a firm kiss on Alex's lips. Without warning, Alex, with strength belied by her slight frame, managed to flip them over, reversing their positions, pinning Casey's wrists securely to the bed. Now it was her turn to affect a self-satisfied grin.

"Because, enthusiasm," Alex said, placing a slightly patronizing kiss onto Casey's forehead, "is no substitute for experience," she released Casey's wrists with a warning glance that suggested she stay put, slowly unbuttoning Casey's shirt and kissing a trail down the newly exposed skin as she went, "and besides, I'm the boss." She added jokily.

Casey wasn't about to argue.

* * *

Before that night, Casey had thought she'd experienced an orgasm. Now, laid on her back, Alex's fingers inside her, gripping the bed sheets with her breath coming hard and fast, she wasn't so sure.

She'd certainly never felt anything like this, sound deadening in her ears, lights exploding in the screen of her eyelids as Alex kept pace inside of her. She involuntarily moaned, emitting several words she was quite certain could not be found in the English dictionary before slumping against the bed, exhausted, trying to regain her breath.

Alex returned to her side, gently turning Casey's face to hers, centimetres away though Casey still could barely make out her expression under the curtain of dark.

"You okay?" Alex asked, hushed, bringing their lips together softly for a moment, proceedings taking a slower pace.

"Yeah," Casey said breathily, still in the comedown phase, heart thudding up a slowing staccato against her breastbone, "hey do you want me to…" Alex caught Casey's hand at the wrist as it snaked under the duvet in her attempt to return the favour.

"Maybe next time," Alex said, "you look thoroughly worn out, which, by the way, I'll take as a compliment."

The bedside alarm raised a cacophony, shaking Casey from a pleasantly deep sleep. She muttered a protest at the evil electronic device, slapping at the top listlessly with a limp hand, hoping to secure at least another fifteen minutes of shut eye before she came to a startling realization.

That was not her alarm clock.

The duvet she was nestled beneath was not her duvet.

And that swell beneath the quilt next to her was definitely not her favourite childhood toy, Sammy the Seal.

"Shit!" Casey muttered as Alex stirred from her sleep.

"Now I know I'm not exactly an oil painting in the morning, but that's a little harsh," Alex said, one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, I was just…surprised to see you," Casey fumbled out, realizing with some embarrassment that she was in fact naked, in bed with her boss. Who had fucked her last night. She tried desperately to remember at precisely what time last night this had seemed like a good idea.

"Casey, you are in _my_ bed," Alex said, giving a lethargic stretch before hopping out of bed. Despite having seen it all last night and in _much_ closer proximity, Casey still felt obliged to bashfully avert her gaze from the lithe, nude form before her.

Focused on studying the delicately stitched white lilies' that adorned Alex's bedspread, she didn't clock the approach of the other woman until she was near on top of her.

"I thought we got over this shyness shtick," Alex said, beaming an infectious smile. Casey couldn't help but laugh at herself just a little. Mere hours ago, she was sprawled out on the very same duvet she was now clutching tentatively to conserve her modesty, cursing the air blue in a fit of passion. It was funny how everything gained a disconcerting clarity in the light of morning, stripped of the anonymity the darkness of night afforded.

"Mmmmgh," Casey muttered, the language centre of her brain apparently not quite powered up yet, "what time is it?"

"Time to get your ass into the shower," Alex said, "come on, it'll be quicker if we go in together," she added, retreating to the ensuite bathroom. Despite Casey being quite sure that joining Alex in the shower would not expedite the process (if anything it would have precisely the opposite effect), she followed the blonde inside. After all, Alex couldn't exactly chew her out for arriving late to work if she herself was the delay. A very pleasant delay at that.

* * *

As Casey had suspected, the shower interlude had set their office ETA even further forward. It also did not help that Alex was the slowest dresser of all time.

Casey was already reclining on Alex's bed, fully dressed in borrowed business attire, watching as Alex paced about the room in her underwear, still carefully considering her choice of outfit.

"We're going to be late," Casey said casually, finding it surprisingly hard to care. The morning she'd had was worth the lecture she'd get from Branch when they eventually rolled in.

"We'll just tell Arthur we had a case related meeting in the morning," Alex said, selecting a black pants suit from her seemingly bottomless wardrobe.

"I think I'll leave that one to you," Casey said, "anyway, there's something that's been bothering me since we went to dinner the other night."

"What's that?" Alex asked, stepping into her pressed black pants and rotating in front of the mirror to examine the results.

"How did you…know?"

"Know what?" Alex said, shrugging on a white button-down.

"That I would be," Casey struggled for words, "…agreeable."

"I don't follow," Alex said, perching on the edge of the bed with a quizzical look.

Casey sighed, "how did you know I was…" she gave a pregnant pause, the words sticking in her mouth.

"Gay?" Alex surmised with a deliberate smirk. Casey nodded.

"Hmmm, how did I know?" Alex said, getting to her feet, stuffing her hands into her pockets and paced about the room in a John Wayne style posture, emulating Casey's odd gait. She cleared her throat and said in a tone similar to Casey's lower, slightly husky voice, "hey, I'm Casey Novak, can't stop now, I'm headed to my softball game, you should come along and watch me swi…"

Alex's mocking impersonation was cut short by a pillow hitting her squarely in the face.

"I'm kidding," Alex scowled, picking up her pillow and tossing it back at the other Lawyer, though without nearly as much force, "it's not that obvious. I guess my gaydar is pretty sharp."

Casey got to her feet reluctantly, Alex's bed was damn comfortable, "I guess we better get to work," she announced, hoping to change the subject.

Alex flicked her eyes to the clock, "I'll drive you in. But one thing, next time we do this, I think you should go back to your place after. If we keep arriving at work together, people will talk."

Casey shrugged, "fine by me," she answered honestly. She knew it wasn't just rumours Alex was concerned about. Spending the night only confused matters. This arrangement was more akin to a business transaction, once a deal was concluded, all parties returned to their own offices. Simple.


	9. Grown Up

**A/N So, I suck, I take forever to update, I know these things. I apologise for my fail. Um, here is another chapter, I am trying to get my "can be arsed" fixed so I can update more regularly, but I make no promises. As always, reviews are much welcomed and that little email in my inbox does remind me that I really ought to crack on and stop being a lazy writer!**

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**Chapter 9: Grown Up**

**Casey**

So that's how it started.

I was sleeping with my boss. It was something so contrary to my nature, I thought it would weigh on my moral conscience, taint me in some way, make me feel guilty or dirty.

But it didn't.

Walking through the office, carrying my salacious secret, it gave me a buzz, made me feel grown up. Kind of like drinking alcohol for the first time, or sleeping naked. It was exhilarating, and best of all, distracting. Olivia was out of my head for the first time in months.

And then she was in my apartment, and everything changed again.

**Olivia **

I don't often get close to people. I've never been good at that.

But Alex is someone I'd call a friend, probably the closest I've ever had to a best friend.

I know all her little secrets. And her one big one.

I've always felt privileged that Alex felt comfortable enough to share the private aspects of her life with me, but there was one thing I wished she hadn't.

When we met for dinner after work, I knew she had something to tell me. It was obvious from the constant knowing grin, and the palpable excitement she exuded.

It only meant one thing, and eventually, with enough gentle cajoling, I got a name of her latest paramour.

Casey Novak.

My jaw hit the floor, and for reasons I couldn't explain, so did my heart.

Looking back, I think that was the catalyst for all that followed. Or maybe I'm just trying to push the blame onto Alex. I know I'm making excuses for myself, but it's better than the alternative.

**Alex**

And just like that I was sleeping with my subordinate. I can't say it was the smartest career move I've ever made, but damn, it was worth it.

Scaling the ever formidable political career ladder can get monotonous to the extreme, and having an extremely attractive, _very_ enthusiastic young attorney at my sexual beck and call was…a nice diversion. It was meant to stay just a diversion.

But the way we humans come together, interact, nothing ever stays simple, detached. Throw two women into that equation and mix in the hotbed of pressure and stress that goes hand in hand with the justice system territory and you are bound to get a result that is anything but sterile and simple.

I committed the cardinal sin.

I got 'involved'.

I don't know how I ever thought it would be any other way.

On my initial approach, I truly believed I was playing safe. Since I first laid eyes on Casey Novak I found her physically stunning. Five ten, tight body that went in and out at all the right spots, long fiery red blonde hair that complemented her porcelain skin perfectly, and those innocent green eyes that let you know she wouldn't believe a word of it if you told her.

Oh, I've always found her easy on the eyes.

But as a person? God, she annoyed the hell out of me. Arrogant, abrupt, dig-your-heels in stubborn as fuck in every aspect of life, laced with a genuine disinterest in what anyone thought of her for it.

Then I got to know her.

She's a different person outside of the office, and outside of her pressed-just-so business blacks.

Tactile, funny in a goofy, non-deliberate way, engagingly curious and intense. I'll admit, on those nights I got weak and asked her to stay, laid awake with the comfortingly firm presence of her arm wrapped snug around my waist, her breath tickling my neck as she slept, blissfully ignorant of my thoughts, I mused to myself that I could happily get used to this.

But, with all this, I knew she didn't feel the same. Maybe given time and the right circumstances, I would have grown on her. But there was a barrier, an obstacle, and it wasn't the obvious one: our employment and our relative positions therein.

It was something else, and I have to admit, I was surprised when she, after a lot of cajoling, revealed exactly who it was.

* * *

"Who are you lying next to?" Alex asked absently, staring at the ceiling. It was a Saturday afternoon. The night before, Alex had called Casey around, and once again, she had stayed the night. In the morning, Casey had tried to tempt Alex out of bed with the promise of a cooked breakfast to no avail. As such, the younger woman had given up and was now flopped horizontal across the bed, head resting on Alex's stomach peacefully.

"Alexandra Cabot," Casey muttered sleepily, "lawyer, and part-time existentialism enthusiast, apparently."

"That's not what I mean," Alex said, gently running her fingers through the other womans hair. Casey let out a deep sigh. It seemed she was not up for philosophical discussions on a lazy Saturday afternoon. Still, Alex wanted her question answered, so she pressed on.

"Come on Casey, I know who I'm thinking about when I'm screwing you. Who is it for you?"

Casey considered Alex's statement for a moment, then repositioned herself next to Alex on the bed.

"So…you were thinking about someone else last night?" Casey said, interweaving her fingers thoughtfully and resting them behind her head, "so, does this mystery girl have a name that sounds remarkably like Casey? Because I'm pretty sure that's what you were calling out last night," she pondered, a smirk tugging at her full lips, "though I could be mistaken, what with all the moaning…"

Casey's ramble was cut short by an abrupt, but playful smack on the tummy from Alex.

"Well aren't we cocky all of a sudden?" Alex said, unable to hide a grin, "I will admit, you _are _a quick study, but I'm not sure your skill yet warrants that level of… conceit."

Casey shuffled herself lower on the bed, toying idly with Alex's panties, and placing a racy kiss just above them on her stomach,

"Well, they say practice makes perfect…"

Somewhat distracted, Alex was about to let the other woman go ahead with her…practice, until she recalled what they had been discussing, and realized Casey's attempt to go down on her was nothing more than a ploy to avoid answering the question she had posed.

Tempting though it was, Alex was nothing if not tenacious,

"Nice try Casey, but you still haven't answered my question," Alex said, narrowing her eyes jokily at the redhead stationed between her legs. Aware that her plot had been discovered, Casey rolled her eyes and hopped up off the bed, pacing to the window and peeking out distractedly at the rising light over Manhattan.

"You're going to laugh," Casey murmured quietly.

"Maybe, but tell me anyway," Alex said.

"Fine. But it's nothing serious, it's just a crush, and a really immature one at that…"

"I didn't ask for justification, just a name…"

Casey let out a heavy sigh, then muttered, barely audibly, "Olivia."

Alex's eyes widened, "Benson?"

"The one and only, do you want coffee? I could _really_ go for a latte right now…" Casey replied, clearly uneasy with the subject, but so uneasy that Alex very much doubted that it was just an 'immature crush', as Casey had called it. But it wasn't just that. A few nights ago, Alex had disclosed, though not in great detail, her 'arrangement' with Casey to said Detective, who had reacted in a very similar, awkward way.

Perhaps the feelings were mutual?

Of course, there was no way of knowing. Yet. Alex knew she should have known better, but immediately, a plan began to form in her mind, a plan which would satiate her curiosity.

* * *

**Alex**

I'm not a boat rocker by nature, though my actions in the past might convince people otherwise.

My curiosity was roused by Olivia's reaction to the news that I was hooking up with Casey. There was shock, as I expected, but it was mingled with another emotion.

Disappointment. She tried to hide it, but I've always been able to read Olivia like a book. But this realization just roused my curiosity further. I hadn't initially intended to mix things, but after Casey disclosed her feelings to me, a somewhat masochistic inquisitiveness rose in me and I needed to know for certain if Olivia felt what I did for Casey.

My wicked side got the better of me, as it does to all of us on occasion and I set the proverbial cat amongst the pigeons.

And by god did the feathers fly.

I'm still not sure if I regret my actions that day, though a part of me tells me I should.


	10. The Green Eyed Monster

**Chapter 10: The Green Eyed Monster**

**Alex**

It was meant to be a secret.

It was meant to be a distraction.

It was meant to be brief.

Funny how so few things ever turn out how we initially plan.

Without paying much thought to the eventual consequences, I set out to make things obvious in the least obvious way I could.

It didn't take long for Olivia to catch on. She's not obtuse, and I wasn't all that surreptitious .

I started in conversation. Making idle, passing comments about Casey, gauging the other woman's reaction. Olivia was nothing if not cagey, but there was still a spark, something flickering behind those ambivalent dark brown eyes.

Olivia didn't want to give anything away, still, I saw how her teeth set on edge when I mentioned Casey's name. When she asked me why I looked so happy in the morning and I made it known it was the salacious events of the night before which had imbued me with that tell tale glow. But things were moving too slow.

Impatience is one of my few vices.

I decided Olivia needed a… "visual aid" so to speak.

I recall Casey stood in front of my floor standing mirror, muttering hushed obscenities as she tried in vain to rub off unmistakable red brands my attentions had left on her neck the night before, calculatedly high so as to thwart easy cover up with a turtleneck or scarf. I had commented that she hadn't protested so hard last night when I was making those marks. She shot back a taut smirk from the corner of her lips, and I knew if it wasn't for my elevated position in our joint workplace hierarchy, she would have complained more ardently.

That was phase one of, shall we say for lack of a better analogy, 'marking my territory'.

Phase two. Well, that was a little less subtle.

* * *

Alex thought it was adorable. It seemed almost a shame to distract her.

Casey's face was a study in concentration as she crouched, poised, bat tightly gripped in a practiced stance. An abrupt 'pop' sounded, the ball moved so quickly Alex didn't even catch a glimpse of it before Casey swung, connecting with the luminous yellow sphere, sending it careening back to sender.

The batting cages were empty spare herself and the other lawyer at this hour, meaning no one else was around to witness her staring, but as much as Alex was tempted to just hang back and keep watching, it struck her as slightly voyeuristic. And alas, she had a plan (which had been thrown together quickly due to opportunity) to set into action.

"Casey!" She called out. The red head started, lowering her bat and looking about puzzled before sighting Alex. She nodded her greeting, and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, the pitching machine fired again, taking Casey unawares.

"Shit!" Casey spat, followed by a string of progressively less ladylike epithets as she swiftly brought a hand up to her ribs, which had taken the brunt of the force from the unexpected softball.

Alex gave an embarrassed wince as she jogged over as quick as her heels would allow. By the time she had reached the cage, Casey had exited it, perhaps to avoid any further injury.

"Sorry," Alex said, affecting her most ingratiating smile, "I…uh…didn't think I'd distract you so much."

Casey was still scowling and rubbing at her side, "hey, don't flatter yourself, you called my name, I turned around."

"Someone's grumpy," Alex said, taking a step nearer, slipping her hands up Casey's shirt and soothingly petting her injured ribs, "tough day at the office?"

The other woman seemed to soften her deportment, relaxing with Alex's gentle touch, "it's my boss, lately she's just been riding me non-stop," Casey said with a cheeky smirk.

Alex returned the smile, giving Casey a playful squeeze, "what, Cabot? I've heard she can be a total bitch. Though I've heard she's hot. And _amazing_ in bed,"

"I wouldn't believe those rumours, apparently she's not so hot in person" Casey said, "and one of the girls in the office slept with her, she described the experience as distinctly average."

Alex's eyebrows shot up, "average? Hmmmm, lets see if we can't dispel that particular rumour…" her words trailed off as she pushed Casey up against the wire fence, taking the younger attorney's mouth with a rough, dominant kiss.

Olivia let out a long, satisfying yawn as she coasted through the Manhattan streets in her beat up old Volvo. As per usual, it had been a damn long day. Elliot was already at home, having pulled several consecutive all-nighters. Despite both living, and working together (same department, no longer as partners, Cragen had put the kibosh on that the second he got wind that there might be something between the two) Olivia felt like they barely saw each other. In a lot of ways, that had been a blessing. Just lately, she and Elliot hadn't been getting on. Not rowing, so much as having so little to say to one another that things got tense.

It was strange, Olivia had been able to talk to Elliot for hours when they were partners, and the time they spent together always seemed too short. These days, she was glad of a distraction, and the excuses work afforded her. She figured that was how marriages went. Spend enough time with anyone and you'll exhaust most conversation topics. Not that she had anything to compare it to. Elliot had been married before, but Olivia figured broaching the topic "is marriage supposed to be this dull?" with him might raise alarm bells. Nonetheless, it was a thought for another time. Technically, she was still on the clock, and likely wouldn't be heading home until Elliot was on his way out again, further delaying the need to address the issue.

She checked her cell as she pulled up outside the sports complex. She'd got the address right, but she was puzzled as to why Alex had requested she meet her at this location to discuss a running case. She had never figured Alex for the sporting type, that was more Novak's bag. And what was wrong with a coffee place? God, she didn't need to start thinking about coffee…

Jamming her cell back into her jacket pocket, Olivia trudged into the complex.

After getting Alex's voicemail twice, Olivia figured she'd just take a walk around the place and try to manually locate the absent attorney. It wasn't a huge complex, and if she didn't run into Alex within five minutes she fully intended on walking straight back out again.

If whatever development was so damned important, Alex would have to learn to answer her cell.

She wandered into the batting cages, and at first, she thought it was empty. Then she heard a sound, hushed voices. Familiar voices.

Olivia walked quietly, following the source of the sounds.

Casey managed to make a space between herself an the other lawyer to catch her breath,

"Alex, I don't think we should be doing this here," Casey said breathlessly, sounding as firm as she could with Alex's body pressed against hers, her lips redirecting their attentions to her neck.

"I think we agreed that I would select the place and time," Alex said, in her best school teacher voice, which, to her considerable consternation, Casey happened to rather like, "and I choose _here_, and _now_."

"But it's a little public, plus I don't exactly feel sexy in my softball gear…"

Alex shrugged, "well, sweatpants do have their advantages…like, no zippers to fumble with…" Alex's words trailed off as she took advantage of this easy entrance by sliding her hand down the waistband of Casey's blue cotton joggers.

Before she could get any further, both were shocked by a loud, deliberate,

"Ahem!"

Alex jumped back from Casey, revealing Olivia stationed behind them, hands in pockets, staring dutifully at the ceiling.

"Olivia, hi," Casey rambled, "we were just…um…Alex needed something so she came down here to…um…find it."

"Was that something in your pants Casey?" Olivia asked, cracking a slight smile, "if I've interrupted something, I can come back later."

"Sorry Liv," Alex said, likely realizing Casey had turned bright red and mute all of a sudden and likely would not be contributing much more to the conversation, "I forgot I'd called you, you needed a warrant, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm guessing you don't have it…" Olivia said, roughing the back of her hair furtively.

"Sure I do," Alex said, remaining remarkably unabashed despite the other two womens obvious discomfiture.

Alex withdrew a folded blue document from her jacket, handing it to the Detective.

"Thanks," Olivia said, tucking the papers into her jacket before hurriedly turning on her heel, "I better get going, see you both tomorrow," she called back over her shoulder, without looking back.

Casey watched the Detective depart, puzzled.

Sure, the situation was awkward, multiplied by infinity. But Casey knew Olivia. It normally took more than a couple of lawyers engaging in what likely constituted public indecency to rattle her.

Almost accidentally, she said aloud, "what was that about?"

Alex shrugged, "what's the matter Novak? Hoping she's stick around, maybe join in?"

Casey narrowed her eyes, "humour: not your strong point."

"Oh unclench Casey, I'm teasing you," Alex said with a wicked smile.

**Olivia**

Alex and Casey.

Casey and Alex.

The two names together stuck in my throat as I rested my forehead against the steering wheel that night.

I must have sat in my car in the parking lot for half an hour after my sojourn with the lawyers, my head spinning.

I went home and I let Elliot fuck me. I use that phrasing because I wasn't an active participant. He'd rolled over, placed a hand on my back. His way of testing the water. I'd obliged, encourage, then lay under him while he did what he needed, and made all the right noises, but my mind was elsewhere.

It didn't make sense, I knew Alex was sleeping with Casey, she had made that abundantly clear, in ways so obvious it felt like she was rubbing my nose in it at times.

But I shrugged it off, I guess I've never had the best imagination, but catching those two together irrevocably placed that image into my head.

It stuck.

And I came unstuck.

* * *

Weeks went by since Olivia had caught Alex and Casey in a compromising position. And it had been weeks since she could look either of them in the eye. Casey had noticed. Olivia could tell. The lawyer was perceptive. When they conversed, Olivia kept it curt, and Casey had squinted her eyes, pausing, cocking her head a little, the cogs turning. She was trying to figure out what she'd done wrong.

Trouble is, she hadn't. Casey was entitled to screw whoever she liked. It was Olivia who had obligations.

She sat alone in the little house she and Elliot shared, aimlessly flicking TV channels. It was late evening and Elliot was away at a course, some mandatory health and safety bullshit. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Instinctively, she grabbed her cellphone, and cautiously peeping through the window. The instantly recognizable tall form of Casey Novak stood on her porch, fidgeting with the zipper on her jacket.

She opened the door.

"Casey? It's late," Olivia said, stepping aside to let her in anyhow.

Casey strode in, and Olivia followed her to the living room. Casey sat on the sofa and Olivia perched next to her.

"We need to talk," Casey said, looking straight ahead resolutely at the fireplace.

"About what?"

Casey turned to her, green eyes smouldering, "about why we don't talk anymore."

"We're talking now," Olivia said. She knew that was a cop out, but this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have. She wondered why she hadn't just ignored the door.

"You've been off with me, I want to know why," Casey said, voice firm. Olivia couldn't hold her gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Olivia lied.

"Ask me." Casey said.

Olivia stood up, beginning to pace. Her heart was beginning to race, and she begged her mouth to know when to bite her tongue so she didn't spill out the secret she'd been carrying around the last few weeks, "ask you what?"

"You know what, I can see it, ever since you saw me and Alex…" Casey's words faded off.

"Saw you and Alex what? Necking like teenagers in the sports center?" Olivia said, sounding slightly angrier than she meant to.

Casey stood up too, placing herself in Olivia's pacing path, "why Olivia?"

"Why what?" Olivia sighed. This conversation was not meant to happen. What does an ostrich do if it buries its head in the sand, and then someone comes along and digs it up? Casey had the shovel and was quickly digging away at Olivia's comfortable hidey-hole from reality.

"Why are you mad at me?" Casey pressed.

"I'm not mad at you," Olivia said softly.

"Then why can't you even look me in the eyes anymore, huh?" Casey said, "why does it bother you?"

Olivia sighed, defeated, "it just bothers me. I'm not angry though."

Casey moved closer, placing a hand on Olivia's shoulder, "why are you avoiding me then?"

"I'm not mad, I'm hurt."

Casey's brows flexed, "hurt?"

Olivia swept Casey's hand from her shoulder and slumped down on the sofa, "yeah. I know I have no right to feel that way, but I do, I'm sorry."

Casey's expression was unreadable, "so, what? You don't want me to see Alex anymore? Is that it? Is it because she's your friend?"

"It's not that," Olivia said.

Casey flopped down on the sofa next to her, staring at the ceiling fan, "what do you want then?"

"I wish to god I knew," Olivia said, placing her hands over her face.

Casey gave a deep sigh, and then spoke slowly and deliberately, "why Liv. Why does seeing me with Alex hurt you?"

Olivia couldn't hold it in anymore, "because when I saw her kissing you, touching you, all I could think about is how much I wished it was me."

**Casey**

I hadn't gone over to Olivia's that night with the intention of sleeping with her.

She had been ignoring me, and I wanted clarity.

I got a whole lot more than clarity. I still don't remember who moved toward the other first, but I remember the next morning like it was yesterday. It was one of the best in my life.


End file.
